Enchanted
by Kayson3259
Summary: This is what happens when Spencer Hastings and Quinn Fabray meet at Yale. Fabrastings. Fluff.
1. Prologue

_**Author's Note: **__Okay, so I've been thinking about doing this for a while, and while it's so uncharacteristic of me to ship Spencer with anyone besides Toby (since I'm a diehard Spobette), I encountered a Fabrastings fanfiction which may or may not have ruined my life. Just a little. And now I can't get it out of my head. _

_Anyway, I am writing this and it will be my first crossover fanfiction. It's a one-shot, but I really like it, and I'm considering extending it into a multi-chapter fanfiction (hint, hint). The way I wrote it is so it takes place in both Quinn and Spencer's perspective. It goes back and forth between the two of them, so it's Quinn, Spencer, Quinn, Spencer, etc. If it's hard to follow, I tried to make it as clear as possible who is speaking and who isn't. If you still don't get it, I'm sorry. _

_Alright, enough chit chat, here we go._

* * *

I was dreading going to that party later.

Excuse me, "Social gathering".

Screw that. It was a party with alcohol, pretty girls in fancy dresses, and discreetly drunk people.

I had yet to make one _real _friend in Yale. It was already December. I was beginning to lose hope.

In high school, I was the pretty, popular head cheerleader who was only a Sophmore. Then, I was a "whore" because pf one drunken mistake. Next, I was the revived star, who, after a nasty demise, returned even stronger. Finally, I was the girl who was just trying to figure herself out. She wasn't really sureof where she was going, or where her heart was.

I was tired of being that girl.

So I decided that night that I was going to be the girl who knew what she wanted, and never took no for an answer.

Something I had admired about Santana throughout high school was her determination. Even though she managed to get on my last nerve, Santana Lopez knew what she wanted and how she would get it, no matter what the cost.

So what did I want?

I wanted to feel whole again. Ever since I gave up Beth and Shelby told me I couldn't see her anymore, I felt like a piece of me was missing.

I wanted love. I wanted to feel loved, to feel whole, to feel new again.

When I was little, I wanted what every little girl always wants—to be a princess. It wasn't because of the tiara, or the dresses (okay...maybe a little because of the dresses); it was because the princess always found love, always. I wanted to be Belle, because she was the hero, or should I say heroine—she saved the prince. But right then, I felt like Sleeping Beauty. The difference was, I feared that my prince would never come.

"Well, here goes nothing," I whispered to myself as I took a final look into the mirror.

* * *

I wasn't sure what to do about my invitation to Yale's "Social gathering" (i.e, fancy frat party). I sort of wanted to go, but...I'm one of those people who go to those parties, then end up wishing they stayed at home with a book.

"You should go," Toby prompted me over the phone. "You never know who you'll meet. And maybe it'll help you get out of your shell."

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "My shell is very comfortable."

I reallt wasn't that girl. I never was. I was the academically-smart bookworm. I never had many friends. It was a wonder to everyone that I ever had a boyfriend, even me.

So I was planning on keeping him. This was not a make-or-break relationship moment, but I was inclined to do the little things he asked/suggested I do, or at least try. Besides, if I didn't like it, I could always leave early, right?

I nodded, looking at my reflection in the mirror. "It'll be fun...maybe life changing."

Little did I know how true that statement was.

* * *

I looked around the room and immediately felt different. Maybe the term "dumb blonde" actually did have some thought behind it. I was one of about a dozen blondes in a sea of over two hundred people.

But there was one brunette who made me look twice.

She was wearing a cream-colored v-neck dress with a short tulle skirt. I felt my stomach doing flip-flops as I stared. It was a feeling I never experienced before—not even with Puck. She looked so familiar, as if I saw her in a dream or a mirage once.

She was laughing and her face was glowing. I wanted to know more. There was just this strong pull I felt near her, like I had to get closer. So I walked over.

* * *

I was laughing at a joke my quasi-friend Kara told me when I saw this beautiful girl with green eyes across the room. I felt almost intimidated and inferior in her presence. I only ever felt that way around one other person—Alison.

There was something extremely haunting and harrowing about her. She looked like...something like what Alison would if she was still alive.

She looked at me with her haunting eyes and I knew. She had the same shimmer and glint in her eyes that Ali had in her sapphire eyes. I wasn't quite sure what it was. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

The brown haired girl examined me, her smile fading into a look of curiosity. I wondered again if I had ever met her before. I was almost positive I hadn't. There was still something oddly familiar about her.

Before I realized it, she was walking over towards me.

_Just breathe..._

"Do I know you?" she asked suddenly. She had a raspy voice.

I shrugged, unable to find words. "I don't know," I said finally. "You look a little familiar."

She nodded, processing my statement. "Well, I'm Spencer. Spencer Hastings?" It came out more as a question, like she was looking for confirmation. I knew where I saw her before. She was in one of my classes. She was quiet, but when she spoke, it was clear that she was very smart.

"I'm Quinn Fabray," I answered, extending my hand to her.

She retracted, as if she was a little scared. It was very subtle. Then, she looked at my hand for a moment, as if she was deciding whether or not I was real, or if she was being messed with. After a mere moment, she shook it and smiled.

* * *

I spent the remainder of the night with Quinn. She wasn't at all like Alison. She was sweet and funny. I really liked her.

But there was something else.

When I was with Quinn, I felt something strange. It was a feeling I had with Toby. Only him. But I felt the same exact way around Quinn.

I sighed and sat down on my bed. I had no idea where my roommate was, but I didn't really care.

I tried to sleep, but I was unsuccessful. Instead, I began walking around my dorm. I just didn't want the night to end. I wished Quinn would just show up at my door. I wanted to talk to someone.

It was clear I needed advice from someone. However, I knew my other friends wouldn't be up this late—Aria was probably asleep, cuddling with a book; Emily was likely either resting or at a party; Hanna was probably partying, and/or wasted—and if any of them were free, they probably didn't feel like talking.

So this was what alone felt like on a Saturday in a dorm at 2 AM.

* * *

I just lay in bed that night, thinking of the night. Thinking of Spencer, mostly.

God, this feeling was not going to go away.

"I was enchanted to meet you," I whispered half-consciously. I whispered it as if somewhere, Spencer could hear me.

_Please don't be in love with someone else._

* * *

I had finally willed myself to settle down into my bed.

I rolled over, and glanced at the clock. 3:25 AM. The green numbers reminded me that I neeeded sleep. And so did that groggy feeling in my head.

So I turned over once more, closing my eyes and succumbing to the allure of sleep. As I shut my own eyes, I realized that her eyes weren't green; they were hazel. The flecks of indigo and copper flickered when she talked about something she really liked.

My last thought that night was—

_Please don't have somebody waiting on you._

* * *

_Alright, that was probably one of the sappiest things I have ever written, and I apologize if I did not do the amazing characters of Quinn Fabray and Spencer Hastings justice. _

_I know I have readers of my other stories who are Swifties and probably picked up on my several allusions to Taylor Swift's song "Enchanted". In case you didn't, this one-shot (or multi-chapter?) is based off of that song. I will say whatever I want about her and that I don't like her music nowadays, but she is a good songwriter. Also, if it sucked and it's because of those allusions, blame her. Or say, hey, there's this really good fanfiction which features your BFFL's character Quinn on fanfiction, and this is the link if you want to check it out. BTW, it's also based on a song of yours._

_Anyway, please let me know if I should make this into a multi-chapter story or if I should keep it as a one-shot. Thanks! __**-Kayson**_


	2. An Old, Tired, Sleepy Town

_**Author's Note: **__Thank you so much for your feedback! I can't believe it has 9 followers already. After much thought, I decided that it would probably be nice to extend this story. _

_So I continued the Spencer/Quinn format, and I tried to make it as easy as possible to let you know who's speaking. As Quinn, I think I mentioned Beth, so it's pretty obvious that Spencer doesn't know who Beth is. And just for references, Clementine is Spencer's roommate. If someone is mentioning a girl named Clementine, it's Spencer, since that's her roommate._

_Anyway, this is chapter one!_

* * *

**Chapter One: An Old, Tired, Sleepy Town**

I walked out into the fresh, brisk New Haven air. I saw trees upon grass upon rows and rows of flowers. I couldn't help but dread my first day here. Only I and a select group of people know how horrible a town as beautiful as this one could be.

_No, Spencer. This is not going to be like high school. They're gone now._

I took a deep breath as I walked out from the train station, my bags with me. I was headed for Yale. And even though it wasn't my first choice in colleges, it was still an Ivy League school, which would please my parents. So what if I was the first Hastings not to go to UPenn? Yale was #3 on the list of the best colleges in the United States; it was a whole five spots above my family's alma mater. And it was somehow cheaper (not that it mattered; I was a Hastings, after all).

I hailed a taxi (something I never really got to do except for when I visited Melissa in Philly or went on the occasional trip to someplace urban, usually New York City) and went right for Yale.

As I arrived there, I realized how little I had actually brought to college. I had one large suitcase, a carry-on bag, and another bag. It was nothing more than a standard luggage set, as I had left a lot of my things in Rosewood. I figured I could always buy more clothes, and I didn't need to fill my dorm with crap I'd never need, and probably never even look at.

I sighed as I walked up to the big, intimidating cast-iron gate guarding Yale. I realized that not everyone got into this school; only 6.8% of the applicants were accepted, making it one of the most elite schools in the country (it was an Ivy, after all) and one of the ten schools with the lowest acceptance rates.

All of this ran through my head as I stood at the gate. I wasn't sure whether I was fluffing my ego at this point, or if I was assuring myself that I didn't disgrace my entire family.

I took another deep breath as I walked through the gate. _Everything is going to be okay, _I assured myself. _Better, even: this will be the best year of your life._

* * *

I looked around my dorm again. I was just finished setting it all up. My roommate had yet to arrive. I had arrived in New Haven three days prior to that first day, just to assure that I'd be situated with the area and I could get my first choice in beds. I had taken the one directly next to the window.

The room was made in such a way that one bed was directly in front of a tiny alcove in the wall with a window. The window had a gorgeous view of the campus and its lush foliage and beautifully kept buildings. At the wall opposite my bed was the door. The other bed was against the wall adjacent to the one mine was against; it was located diagonally across from the door. On the other wall was a desk. The closet was an alcove in the same wall as the door.

I sighed as I sat down on the bed. All of my paraphernalia from high school were scattered around my side of the room—cheerleading ribbons, a picture from when we won Nationals the past year, pictures of the Unholy Trinity, and much more. But the one standout piece which I placed with care and consideration was the framed picture of me holding Beth. It was the only one I had, and it was my favorite picture. I placed it on the ledge of the alcove, right in front of the window. Looking at it, I knew it was my favorite view ever.

I still hadn't gotten over the concept that I would never see Beth again. Maybe someday, but not for decades, at the very least. Shelby had made it very clear that I wasn't to see her again. It was the worst feeling in the world.

And yet, as much as I wanted to hate her, to make her feel exactly what I was feeling, I couldn't. No, I couldn't, because I realized that she was right. I had a chance, and I blew it. It was nobody's fault except for mine.

And I wondered whether or not she felt empathy for me at all. I don't know why, but I was expecting a call or something…anything from Shelby. Like maybe she would change her mind, and realize I was going through the same thing that she went through with Rachel when she was younger.

My hopes were in vain.

Then, I wondered if I would have a relationship with Beth one day like Shelby has with Rachel. I remembered talking to Rachel on the phone, hearing her chatter on and on about how she would love to see Shelby again and how they had made plans to catch up when Shelby visited New York.

I really wanted a relationship like that with Beth someday.

* * *

I walked into the room I was assigned with my bags. I was shocked to see my roommate already there. I saw her, and immediately knew that she was probably like me. She just had that look which made you immediately think: rich, spoiled, smart, and unpopular.

Her head snapped up as she heard me walk in. I shut the door. The first thing I noticed was her long, chestnut colored, wavy hair and black framed glasses. She was reading a book. _The Silence of the Lambs. _This might be the longest school year ever.

Her face broke into a smile as she saw me. "Hi. I'm Clementine!" she greeted cheerily.

"I'm Spencer. It's nice to meet you," I said, abandoning the largest bag in the doorway and extending my hand, which she gladly shook.

"I hope you don't mind; I don't really like being near the window," she said.

I shook my head, but it was a complete lie. Ever since A happened, I had to sleep with my windows locked and the curtains drawn closed. I recalled shuddering and my heart rate going up about a thousand beats per minute when I felt the chill air brush over my porcelain skin. But this would have to be okay. "It's okay. I like the window," I lied.

I pulled my things to the bed, beginning to unpack my things. There were a few pictures, some of me and the girls, others of me and Toby, one even a family portrait. There was a single small, unframed photo of me and Melissa when we were younger. I tucked it inside a book, making a mental note not to read that book again. It always stung a little to see photos of the two of us when we actually got along. Our relationship now was as hopeless as the Titanic was when it hit the iceberg. That, I was sure of, even though I seldom wanted to rehash it.

I moved on, taking out the clothes, and as I went to put them in the closet, I realized it was nearly empty. As if she was reading my mind, Clementine piped up.

"Most of my clothes are still in my suitcase. I just hung up the stuff that really needs to be hung. My sweaters and things are still packed," she noted, going back to drawing something.

I looked back at her. "You can take more space, if you want. I really didn't bring that much. It is a shared closet. I feel like I'm hogging the whole thing," I insisted.

She shook her head incessantly. "Really, I'm fine. I'm used to the whole living in confined spaces thing," she answered cryptically.

On a normal day, I would press it further, but being as it was the first day, I didn't know this girl, and I was tired, I decided not to push my luck. Besides, I didn't want to piss off the person I'd be living with for a whole year on the very first day.

I just emptied my clothing into the closet, along with some of my shoes and sat back down on the bed. I took out a single stuffed animal. It was a penguin. As far as I knew, it was the only one I had owned, and it was from the first Founders' Day Festival that Toby and I were a couple. He won it for me playing one of those fair games. I also took out a fluffy red blanket and curled up. I didn't even care that I hadn't pulled out the bedding or even a pillowcase—I was really tired and could not sleep the entire trip up from Rosewood. It was torturous.

I let my eyes droop closed and succumbed to the allure of sleep. I had no classes today, so I figured I was alright.

* * *

"I just decided that this was the better path for me. I was going to school in freaking _Kentucky _for _cheerleading. _Unless I end up a Lakers Girl, I don't think that being in Louisville in college would be much better than being in New York City, trying to figure myself out," Santana explained to me.

I always knew that Santana was an unpredictable person, but this was something I never thought even Santana Lopez would ever do. It was so bold and daring.

"I'm staying with Rachel and Lady Hummel in some apartment on the wrong side of the tracks, but it's probably nothing compared to Lima Heights Adjacent," she assured me.

I couldn't help but laugh at Santana's usual badass tone. "Nothing scares Santana Lopez," I said nostalgically. "I'd love to keep talking, but I have to go. I have to finish organizing my room and see if my roommate finally showed up."

"The good thing about rooming with Berry and Kurt is that I know they're not serial killers…though, you never know. It's always the annoying, socially awkward ones that turn out to be psycho. But Rachel hasn't tried to kill me yet, so I should be fine," Santana commented.

"Oh, Santana. You'll never change, will you?"

I smiled at the sound of her laugh at the other end of the line. Santana, no matter how many things we fought over in high school, would always be one of my best friends.

"Not a chance," she assured me.

I pressed the END button soon after we exchanged goodbyes. I finished the rest of the coffee in my cup and threw it away, walking back to the dorm. I loved that there was a coffee shop two buildings over from my dorm. I held the door open for a nervous looking brunette, but didn't think much of it.

Walking up the stairs, I took in the old, antique aura which surrounded the place. The halls had deep, beautiful wooden accents to it, and the rug made it feel more like a hotel than a college. I guess with that $46K price tag, you got more than an education—you got an experience. I must say that I thought the college had this beautiful, sleepy feeling to it. I almost felt drowsier being there.

I walked into the room, seeing suitcases on the other bed, but no person. The suitcases were open, contents wide open for viewing. The first thing I noticed was a fake ID and birth control. Various methods.

I rolled my eyes, not really craving meeting this roommate. I simply opened the window a tad and let my growing hair down. Fishing through my things, I found my bedding set, and decided now would be the time to set up my bed and take a nap.

* * *

I awoke some hours later, finding Clementine still sitting on her bed, still sketching something.

"So I take it you like art?" I asked finally.

She snapped up, not realizing I was even awake. "Um…yeah. It's just something I used to do with my mother. I'm okay," she said.

I nodded slowly. "Are there any parties tonight?" I asked. Usually, I wasn't the party-going type, but I wanted to meet people other than Clementine. Though she seemed like a sweet girl, she seemed too much like me to really draw something out of me which I hadn't seen before.

"Probably on Greek Row. I'm not really the party type," she muttered.

My suspicions were confirmed. "Are you sure you don't want to go? I don't really like parties, either. But I want to meet some people."

She shrugged. "I don't think so. I think I'll just stay here tonight. I have a huge today tomorrow, and I can't really afford to go to class with a wicked hangover."

I shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I searched throughout my wardrobe, looking for something someone would wear to a frat party. Once choosing the right outfit, I continued to get ready. I pretended not to notice, but I could see Clementine examining me, almost with a look of envy. I had invited her to come repeatedly.

And suddenly, I recognized the look. I had that look several times. I remembered seeing it in my own eyes as I watched Alison and later Hanna, the social butterflies, prepping for a party which everybody would notice them. None of them would ever notice me, the mousy, lanky girl standing beside the it-girl. Of course not, because I was simply the girl next door. I was nothing more than vanilla in an ice cream case full of hundreds of different flavors. Who wanted stupid, plain old vanilla when they could have triple chunk chocolate fudge or razzmatazz raspberry?

I couldn't believe that for once in my life, I was the person on the other end of the envy. I wasn't that girl that wished to be seen as more than the queen bee's sidekick; I _was _the queen bee.

I knew I was probably blowing this out of proportion and things weren't really this way, but I would take what I could get. I couldn't conceal the smirk on my face as I put on my China Doll-colored lip gloss.

* * *

I stayed in the dorm that night, watching episodes of _NCIS _on my laptop.

My roommate had yet to make an appearance. I was pretty curious about her, since the only things I saw relating to her at all were the suitcases and a few of the clothes she had put in the closet. I saw one pair of shoes and since then, I had become increasingly suspicious of her. The shoes were no smaller than six inches tall and reminded me instantly of hooker heels.

If she did happen to be a hooker…well, I was around Santana for quite some time, which should have helped prepare me for this (she slept around a lot, she just never got paid for it).

I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself, and for most of the night, I just stared at the ceiling until I finally drifted off.

* * *

I entered the sorority (today's party was being held by Zeta Sigma…or something like that). For some reason, it was much different than I had pictured it. It didn't seem as crazy as those stereotypes you saw in the movies.

I guess I looked like I was lost, since almost immediately, a guy came up to me.

The guy had dark hair which covered his forehead. It looked like he had brown eyes. He was wearing a green plaid shirt and khakis. He reminded me a bit of Andrew Campbell, who had gotten a spot at UPenn.

Silently, cursed myself for thinking of that again. Yale was an even better school.

And still, it wasn't enough for my parents.

"Are you one of the sisters?" he asked.

For a split second, I had no idea what he was talking about. "What?"

"At the sorority," he added with a laugh.

"Oh, no. I just heard that there was a party, and I wanted to come," I answered with a shrug.

He nodded. "I'm Trevor, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

I took it, and I wasn't sizing him up in my head. I was seeing how long I can put up the façade of being someone other than Spencer Hastings. "I'm Spencer." In case I ever saw this guy after tonight, I didn't want to go through the trouble of explaining my entire backstory so I could tell him why my name was suddenly different.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Spencer. Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

"I try not to drink so much alcohol. Especially not when I have my first class tomorrow morning at eight-thirty," I explained. "Is there something without alcohol?"

He looked around, and shook his head. "I doubt it. We're at a sorority party, remember?" Trevor said.

I laughed. "I guess I'll have punch," I said.

Trevor handed me a cup.

The funny thing was, I only remember drinking a single cup of punch.

The funny part was that I remember distinctly waking up the next morning to a blaring alarm and the worst hangover I had ever experienced.

* * *

_Okay, so this chapter was pretty long and I would love some feedback. This is the first chapter, so it establishes everything. Basically, the next time is pretty much a continuation of this chapter, and (SPOILER ALERT) Spencer and Quinn meet (in passing) at Yale. Also, it's the return of one of my favorite characters from Glee, the one and only Santana. _

_Again, thank you very much for your words of encouragement. I wasn't totally sure where I would make this go for a multi-chapter story, but I have a pretty clear endgame in mind. Thanks, again! __**-Kayson**_


	3. These Four Walls of Insincerity

_**Author's Note: **__Hey! I'm back! This chapter was a little hard for me to write. Usually I put up new chapters quicker, but with this one, I had a little trouble getting into the writing zone. Next chapter is where the prologue takes place, in case anyone was interested. _

_So keep reading and reviewing! Pretty pretty please? For me?_

* * *

**Chapter Two**: **These Four Walls of Insincerity**

The blaring alarm rang throughout my ears, and my head hammered like a nail. I couldn't even remember how I got back to my dorm the previous night. I didn't even know what happened the previous night.

Thankfully, being as OCD and routine as I was, I had set my alarm to 6AM, a full two and a half hours before my first class. It would give me time to fix myself up, since I knew I looked like crap.

I tiptoed around the dorm, careful not to wake Clementine.

However, my tiptoeing was cut short when I banged my head against the desk after trying to retrieve something from under the desk.

After letting out a slew of curses, I noticed that Clementine had woken up.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I nodded, though I was also wincing with pain. "I'll be fine. It's nothing."

Quickly, I gathered what little dignity I had left and exited the dorm with my books. I reached back and touched where I had hit myself, finding some red, sticky blood on my fingers when I looked at my hand.

I groaned. This was not shaping up to be a good day.

* * *

I walked down the hallways to my first class.

For some reason, I expected college to be different than high school. I was surprised to see the same scene as I walked down the hallway, except it all felt like the first day of senior year.

People were staring. The cliques were all gossiping, gathered in the hallway. I sighed as I walked as quickly as I could to my first class.

I went as fast as possible to a seat in the middle of the classroom. I took note of the people all around me. A lot of them looked like drones, there because they needed to be. Only a few people actually looked happy to be there, while others looked too involved with the other people to pay attention to what was going on.

I sighed and leaned back into my seat. I watched a pair of students, a boy and a girl, walk into the classroom and sit right in the front. I thought it was bold, a move I was not yet willing to make. The girl had a really elegant look to her, but looked somewhat annoyed. The guy had hair which covered his forehead and looked much more laidback.

I looked down at my books. I hadn't felt so alone since I was a child. I even felt more in the company of people when I was being teased for being overweight. Now I was just as faceless as all the others.

That feeling sucked.

I only looked up when the professor began to speak.

Within twenty minutes, I learned just how smart the girl in front was. She had answered eight of the twelve questions the professor had asked.

"Yes, Ms. Hastings?" he said again. He grew more and more intrigued with each answer.

I swore that I heard scattered groans and whispers behind me. I didn't dare look back.

The girl gave what seemed like a rehearsed answer. I looked down at the doodles I had begun to draw. I never doodled in class. I hadn't since the ninth grade. But I was getting more and more drained. This was only the first day of school.

* * *

Trevor and I walked over to the library. We both had some free time, and (coincidentally), we were both majoring in law.

Trevor had gathered a pile of all-important books, being as quiet as he could, as to not disturb the dragon-lady librarian. Her pink lipstick-smothered lips were pursed and the edges were turned down into what looked like an omnipresent frown. Tyler and I both snickered, making jokes as we ransacked the legal stack in the library.

"So teach me the Spencer Hastings way, since you're one of the smartest people I've ever met," he said.

Spencer couldn't contain her blush. "There are people a lot smarter than me," she insisted.

He snorted. "Name one," he challenged.

She groaned, shuffling through the pages of the first book on the stack. "For one, my sister."

He rolled his eyes. "You're forgetting that I don't know your sister."

Spencer laughed, which earned the both of them a shush from the dragon-lady. Both snickered quietly as they watched her turn back to reading a book, her old-fashioned glasses positioned on the tip of her nose.

"How did you manage to get A's all through high school?" Trevor asked quietly.

"For starters, they were A _pluses, _and I don't know. I only ever had to read the books once or twice. The rest was just me reciting it, writing flash cards, and memorizing it all. I guess I have a really good memory," Spencer shrugged.

He sighed. "Well, I'm not so blessed, so I guess you'll just have to go easy on me," Trevor suggested.

Spencer tossed him a look. He smirked. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly in response.

* * *

I walked into my dorm room finding Santana and my roommate (who I was seeing for the first time) sitting on her bed, talking.

My roommate had pin-straight long brown hair and large brown eyes. She was thin. She immediately got up when she saw me.

"Hey! I know we haven't met yet, but my name is Tasha," she introduced herself.

Santana looked back and forth and raised an eyebrow. "I met _your _roommate before you did?" she asked.

I shot her a look quickly, but turned back to Tasha, smiling. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Quinn," I replied, shaking her hand.

Santana sighed, grabbing her bag and getting up from the bed. "Well, it was really nice to meet you, Tasha, but I think I need to take my girl for some retail therapy or something," she said before dragging me out of the room.

"Santana!" I exclaimed as she closed the door behind us. "What are you doing here?"

She sighed. "I like New York and all, but I needed to get away from Rachel and Kurt. They've been going on and on, nonstop, about how _Funny Girl _is reopening and they have to try out. Rachel won't stop singing Barbra around the apartment, and if I had to listen to _Don't Rain on My Parade _or _Funny Girl _one more time, I was literally going to kill someone," she explained.

I raised my eyebrows. "Is it really that bad?" I asked.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. She sighed and began to bring me back out the door. "I needed you right now, Quinn. I needed someone who wasn't going to force-feed show tunes down my throat. I think there's enough sheet music in our apartment to wallpaper the place with it," she said.

I shrugged. "You should've realized that when you got into that apartment with Rachel and Kurt. You know how they are."

She sighed. "Rachel is going to be harder to crack than Kurt. He's at least got _some _coolness in him. Rachel is hopeless. She's about as sexy and as cool as a Powerpuff Girl. Actually, the Powerpuff Girls are about ten times as sexy as she is _and they're in Kindergarten._"

I simply smiled at Santana's exasperated state and brought her to the coffee shop on-campus.

* * *

"How was your first day?"

I was speaking to Toby over the phone. Clementine was out, so I was by myself in the dorm.

I shrugged, though he couldn't see. "It was okay. It was long. I thought that college would be a lot harder, but it's not. I actually found it pretty easy," I admitted.

"I wouldn't count my chicks before they're hatched, Spence. It _was _only the first day. I'll probably get harder," he advised me.

"I know, but if it does, I'm scared for the other kids. Toby, I answered almost all the questions today. I was like the only person raising my hand in a room filled with so many people."

"Not everyone's as smart as you are," he reminded me. Hearing him say that made me smile.

I glanced down at my fingernails. "Thanks. But I'm sure they're all really smart. I mean, they all made it into Yale, which is one of the top schools in the country. I just barely made it…" I trailed off.

"Spencer, don't do this again. You're so smart and talented. If your family can't accept that you didn't get into the family alma mater, that's on them. You're probably one of the smartest people in the country. Believe me, you are," he insisted.

I thought about what he was saying. "I believe you. But that's only because I believe that you wouldn't lie to me." After a moment of silence, I continued. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Rosewood."

"You're homesick?" he asked.

I thought again. "Well, not really. I just miss you and the girls and Caleb…I miss my friends. I don't miss the secrets or the lies or the sick and twisted games. I never want that again," I said, growing quieter and quieter with each word.

"I know you don't, Spence."

Those words stuck for a while, much longer than I felt they should.

I continued my talk with Toby for about an hour, until Clementine came back. Then, I started the homework. I had already noted all of the assignments the professors had posted on the forum, and I got about a week's worth done. They had been light, as it was only the first week. I expected it to be a lot heavier once the semester was in full swing.

* * *

"Have you been back since graduation?" I asked Santana as we walked down Main Street.

She nodded. "I went back last week. Said 'Hi' to Mr. Schue, settled some old scores, same old, same old. It was nice," she shrugged.

I nodded. "I haven't been back. I don't want to go back. Things with my mom are…okay, but it's not the same. I have nothing to go back to, anyway."

Santana stared at me for a minute. "Have you been thinking of him?" she asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? Who?"

"Puckerman. I know you put up that whole façade of you not caring about him, but you care about Beth."

"She's my daughter. How could I not care about her?" I inquired.

"I know you do. But by default, you must care even a little about Puck," she insinuated.

I faced away from her, still confused, but now thinking it all over. "That was a mistake. It was the best mistake I ever made, but it's only because of Beth. And it was still a mistake," I insisted.

She shrugged. "One of these days, though, Puck is going to come back and stir up something. You know him. He just loves having a front row seat," Santana said.

I chewed on my lip, thinking about that. I ended up just shrugging it off, but I hoped the past wouldn't catch up with me.

* * *

_So the drama continues. I hope you enjoyed Santana in this chapter. I just love writing for her. She is, without a doubt, my favorite character from Glee. She's probably going to appear the most out of PLL or Glee characters (aside from Spencer and Quinn, of course)._

**_Breyanaxo: _**_I'm glad you liked the chapter! It's kind of weird writing crossover fanfictions for me, but I really like it, and I will probably put another one out there after this one is done. And that one will likely be more Santana heavy (I'm thinking Emtana) :)_

**_insertnameherex: _**_Thank you so much! Your support is great! I can't describe how thankful I am. _

_So next chapter, we're going to see the "Social Gathering" Spencer and Quinn talked about in the Prologue. I'm going to elaborate the prologue, so I'll try to make it as un-boring as I can. __**-Kayson**_


	4. Nice to Meet You

_**Author's Note: **__Okay, I don't really know what to say at this point except for that I'm really, really, REALLY sorry for not updating soon, but I've been getting really bad writer's block. It sucks. But I finally decided to cooperate and make myself write yesterday, so I wrote this chapter and the next one._

_I also thought I might add that it's really depressing to think of anything related to Glee because of Cory Monteith. I cried when I heard that he died. I just kept telling myself it wasn't true, and that it was a mistake, but something that made me even sadder was seeing all those pictures of him and Lea Michele. I don't think Finn will appear in this story, but I've recently come up with a Glee fanfic idea that I'm thinking of posting. _

_Enough babbling. This is the long awaited Chapter Three._

* * *

**Chapter Three: Nice to Meet You…**

"Hey, did you see this?" Clementine asked as I got off the phone with Hanna. She showed me an invitation which was tucked under the door. She handed it to me.

I looked it over, tracing my fingers over the smooth cursive print at the top. It was an invitation to a "social gathering" at Yale, which was being held that Friday.

"Are you going?" Clementine asked.

I shrugged, thinking about it. "I guess. What harm could it do?" I was already months ahead in course work, so I couldn't really use that as an excuse.

I began to think of the details when I noticed Clementine heading towards the door. "Where are you going?" I asked.

She turned. "The library. I'm studying with a few people," she explained laconically. She walked out the door quickly.

Once again, I felt alone. I decided to rummage through my clothes to decide what I would wear to this gathering. I could've really used Hanna's help right now.

Looking through the dresses that I had in my closet, I realized that there was no way that any of these would be okay. They were dresses that I would wear every day. They weren't dresses fancy enough for a party. I decided that I would have to go out and get a new one.

* * *

I looked at the invitation for the hundredth time. There was some fancy party that Yale was throwing. Apparently, it was a big deal, as I had heard some juniors talking about it in the hallway the other day.

I had already begun looking through my dresses, picking out the nicest one.

But now, as I was thinking about it, I wondered _why, _exactly, I was so concerned about this dance. I mean, it wasn't like I even had any real friends here. Why should it matter?

I ran my hands over a dress sitting in the closet. It was a yellow color, but not extremely bright. There was black embroidery on the top. I had been waiting for an excuse to wear this dress. I would never tell my mother this, but I loved this dress she had picked out for me. She insisted I take it and wear it the first chance I had in college.

Now, as I was looking at it, I realized that opportunity knocked. I pulled it out, smoothing it down on the bed.

* * *

After shopping for hours, I had finally found the dress. I stared at it as I was getting ready for the party—ahem, social gathering.

It was different than something any of my friends would wear. It was so different from something I would typically wear but…I really liked it. It was a sleeveless two-tone beige dress with a deep-v neckline. The top was a darker shade and the v dipped down to the skirt. The skirt was lighter, made out of tulle. It sort of reminded me of something someone would wear at the ballet, but it was refreshingly simple.

I paired it with these red faux suede peep-toe heels which Hanna would've loved.

I smiled thinking about Hanna. I missed her and her witty remarks, and even her dumb-blonde moments. In fact, I think I missed those the most as time went on.

I fixed my hair, styling it in curls, brushed over onto one side. I just prayed that I wasn't overdoing anything.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a Skype call coming in. I went into the room, and saw Aria calling me. I quickly picked up her call.

"Spencer? You look amazing! What are you up to? Did Toby come into town?" Aria asked, talking a mile a minute.

I laughed. "Slow down, Aria. There's a formal at Yale and I'm going," I answered.

Aria's face fell a little. "Aw. I was kind of hoping for you guys but…I'm sure you'll have fun," she insisted, putting a smile on her face.

"I'll try. What about you? What are you up to, tinier half of Team Sparia?" I asked.

Aria shrugged. "I'm going out with a couple people from college. I think we're going out for pizza and then to this pub near the campus. I don't know. Maybe we'll see the midnight screening of that new horror movie," she supposed.

I winced. "You're okay with seeing a horror movie so soon after A?" I asked. I hated thinking of A, but there were still some nights that I woke up in a cold sweat, thinking of them chasing me and finally catching up. Not that I'd ever admit that to anyone. A faceless being stood over me with a crowbar, raising it so they had enough leverage to…

I shook herself out of it. It was really dangerous to think of A, and I knew that. It was suicidal, even.

"It's just a movie. And sometimes, it's therapeutic, in a weird way. It's like I'm confronting my fears head on, you know?"

I shrugged. I still couldn't fathom even looking at the trailers for horror films right before going to bed.

"Listen, I should go, and you should to. Have fun tonight, Spencer. You're only young once," she insisted.

I raised my eyebrow in amusement. "Was that supposed to be like YOLO, Aria?"

Aria shrugged. "Maybe. It's YOYO, Bitch," she joked.

I laughed, shutting off the laptop after I hung up.

* * *

I gathered my hair into a half updo. I still felt like I'd look completely out of place at this stupid gathering. I considered blowing it all off altogether. I didn't want to think of this anymore.

I sighed as I sat down on the bed. I played with the fabric of the dress in my hand.

No.

No, I was not going to let myself sink into a depression again. I had worked so hard to get here and to make something of my life. I wasn't about to sulk in a dorm while people were probably having fun in the next building over.

I nodded in agreement with myself. I would have _fun. _I would be the _old _Quinn Fabray. I would be the Quinn Fabray that had fun and wasn't scared of falling.

_And look what happened to her._

Oh, God. I began to feel sick just thinking about it all again. I felt nauseous and lightheaded. I didn't want to start thinking of the past. The very reason I wanted to get far away from Lima was so I could escape the hell that town had put me through.

I closed my eyes and plastered a smile on my face. I would be the same bubbly head-cheerleader Quinn. I would be the Quinn I was before Glee Club. I would be the Quinn from the Cheerios.

I nodded. _That _Quinn was sociable and made friends easily. She also made enemies pretty easily. After all, that Quinn was beautiful and confident.

_Wait,_ I thought to myself. _Remember that episode of Sue's Corner? Coach Sylvester said that there's no difference between a crowd of fans and an angry mob; they're both just making a lot of noise. If you can make believe they're all cheering for you, one day they will. Maybe if I can convince myself that everyone there sees me as confident, I will be._

I smiled at my reflection. I started thinking of all my good qualities. Surely, I was pretty. I mean, if all those girls thought so, I must be, right? And certainly, I was smart. I mean, I was in _Yale,_ for crying out loud. And by some miracle, I managed to maintain a tiny figure even after Beth. I didn't even have stretch marks.

And just like that, I started getting back in my groove. I smiled radiantly as I searched for my nude pumps.

* * *

I stood, bored by the pace. I thought maybe it would be _interesting_, and that there might be music from _this century _playing. And maybe there would be some sort of alcohol at this party.

God, was I turning into Hanna.

But seriously, I think that alcohol would've made the party at least _tolerable._ But, you know Yale. They have to be responsible and stuff like that.

I rolled my eyes, scanning the room. I felt a light tap on my shoulder, which was Trevor with two glasses of punch.

I offered a slight smile. "Thanks, but is there any chance that they might've slipped some sort of alcohol into this?" I inquired hopefully.

"Lucky you, I never come unfortified to one of these fancy gatherings," he said, discreetly showing me a flask he had he had in his inside pocket.

Alright, so maybe it wasn't just Hanna.

I laughed, taking a sip of the punch and immediately tasting the vodka on my tastebuds.

Maybe this event would be tolerable, after all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I spotted Alison. I turned my head, entranced by this girl with blond hair. She looked vaguely like Alison. She was talking to another girl, with a very smug smile, her perfect white teeth and pink cupid bow lips forming Alison's favorite type of smile. She had pretty green eyes (which differed from Alison's haunting blue eyes).

Her green eyes haunted me. They reminded me of Jenna's envious, menacing, green-eyed stare. Her stance and other physical features reminded me so much of Alison. I started feeling a little nauseous, and I knew it wasn't the vodka.

* * *

I swore I could feel someone looking at me.

I broke out of my awkward small talk with another Yale freshman. I looked over to see a brunette with a nude dress looking absentmindedly in my direction. I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes. She looked like someone who was very used to being in control. She was certainly beautiful, and I could see her being a mean girl.

But as I looked her over once more, I realized that she had some sort of innocence or kindness to her look. She didn't look like the typical bitchy mean girl who was used to getting everything about her. Her eyes looked…jaded, in a way.

I looked down at the tile flooring. I didn't know what to do.

I looked back over to the girl, who was now having a seemingly friendly conversation with the man standing next to her.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something very familiar about that girl. I recognized her. I knew she was in one of my classes, not exactly sure which one, but there was something else about her which struck me as familiar. Something about the way she carried herself…something about her disposition. I wasn't sure exactly what it was, but I knew I would find out.

The same determination and vindictiveness that I had years ago began to come up again. I was going to find out about this girl.

* * *

_I really hope nobody hates me because I know this chapter probably sucked, but it was the first chapter Quinn and Spencer directly interacted. More Fabrastings next chapter :) And someone else from Lima shows up, too. Sorry, it's not Santana, as much as I love Snixx, but I think that she's going to be the Glee character seen the most aside from Quinn, of course. _

**_insertnameherex: _**_I'm really sorry for not updating, and I hope you don't hate me too much, because you've been a consistent reviewer and that's awesome. Anyway, Santana and Rachel were probably the two biggest reasons I had for starting to watch Glee. I just saw a bunch of funny videos on Santana and started watching. And Rachel is an incredimazing singer, so..._

**_Jojobean209:_**_Thank you so much! I was worried when I started writing this that it was a little out of character, more so on Quinn's part, since I've written for Spencer before, but I'm glad that they're not too out of character. That's always a good thing. And Santana is my favorite character EVER (also Toby Cavanaugh, because...Keegan Allen), so I knew that I just needed her relationship with Quinn. I love Quintana, too :) They're the best. I think I might just ship them more than Brittana, but I haven't really seen Santana + Brittany so...yeah :)_

_Okay, I'll update soon (since I've written chapter four already), but I want to write a couple more chapters so I don't just have two and then...nothing. __**-Kayson**_


	5. Have We Met?

_**Author's Note: **__Okay, so I've finally gotten to updating, but I really don't know what to do now, as my mind is drawing a blank. I would love a little bit of encouragement...or suggestions...just a thought. Okay, so this is when they officially meet, and now, we'll get to know Quinn and Spencer as friends :) or something more :D I'm a Spobette but I've got to say that the thought of Quinn and Spencer gives me tingles. Feels. _

* * *

**Chapter Four: …Have We Met?**

I walked over boldly to the girl who looked so much like Alison and Jenna. She was more intimidating as I got closer to her.

She was definitely like Alison.

Without thinking, I asked, "Do I know you?"

The girl's smile faded into a neutral look. She shrugged. Finally, she said, "I don't know. You look a little familiar."

I nodded, processing what she had to say. Finally, I spoke. "Well, I'm Spencer. Spencer Hastings?" I offered, giving her my last name, too. I wondered if that would ring any bells.

"I'm Quinn Fabray," she replied, extending her hand.

I tried to decipher whether this was real or not. I felt almost like it were a trap. Finally, deciding it was okay, I shook her hand, offering her a smile.

Quinn looked at me for a moment. Finally, a look of recollection flashed over her. "Oh! We have the same Philosophy class," she said. "You're the smart girl that sits in the front and knows all the answers," she said with a small smile.

I smiled nodding.

"I must say that it's a pretty bold move sitting willingly in the front row your first day of class," she commented.

I shrugged. "I guess. I guess I just wanted to show the professors that I'm not scared of whatever they have to throw at me," I supposed.

She nodded in understanding.

"Listen, my friend Trevor and I were about to ditch this place. Do you want to come with us?" I asked her.

"Sure."

* * *

I walked with Spencer and her friend Trevor to a pizza parlor. It was when we got there when I realized how hungry I was.

"So, Quinn, where are you from?" Trevor asked, his eyes glistening after I ordered.

I sighed. "I'm from this tiny town in Ohio called Lima. What about you two?"

"I'm from Oakland, California," Trevor replied.

Spencer took a drink of seltzer before she replied. "I'm from this little place in Pennsylvania called Rosewood. It's like thirty minutes away from Philadelphia. There's like seven thousand people in the town, so it's nothing compared to New Haven," she offered before taking another drink.

I nodded.

"What are you majoring in?" I asked finally.

"We're both majoring in law. You?" Spencer answered.

"Drama," I answered.

They both nodded. I had no idea what to say next. Luckily, I didn't have to, as Spencer offered up some words.

"Just remember that this can't be more boring than what we were just experiencing," she said optimistically.

I laughed, nodding.

* * *

I awoke the next morning facing the window, the sunlight blinding in my eyes. I rolled over before getting up. Clementine wasn't there. I figured she stayed over a friend's dorm, as it was only eight, and I really doubted that she got home at four to be gone again by eight.

I sighed, getting up to brush my teeth, get dressed, and go out for coffee, like I knew I'd habitually be doing on the weekends.

I slipped on a sweater and some jeans before leaving. As I was walking outside, I realized that I had only slept like three hours and I wasn't tired. At all.

I shrugged it off as I walked into the coffee shop, ordering a large coffee and a bagel, which I knew I'd end up picking at, but decided I'd better ingest _something. _

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blonde walk in with a red knit beanie. I smiled, thinking briefly of Caleb.

I turned to see who the girl was, and saw Quinn standing there. She was ordering a coffee and a cinnamon raisin bagel. She smiled and thanked the cashier, walking away from the counter.

"Hey, Quinn!" I called off, catching her attention.

She smiled at me. She walked over.

"Hey, Spencer," she said happily.

"Do you want to sit with me?" I asked, gesturing towards the empty seat across the table from me. I really hoped she'd say yes. I wanted to learn more about her and truth be told, I hated being alone.

She shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Thanks."

I took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't nearly as strong as I made it, but it was the dark roast, so it wasn't weak, either.

"I thought I was the only person who woke up at eight in the morning willingly," Quinn joked.

I laughed. "I'm a bit anal-retentive about a schedule. I always wake up exactly at eight."

She nodded slightly, but it didn't look like she believed me. I guess I was playing it off in such a way that I didn't seem so anal and OCD.

She shrugged before she took some sugar from the container on the table and stirred it into her coffee. "I usually don't wake up this early, but I had a hard time sleeping last night," she confessed.

"So did I," I told her.

She put the lid back on her cup and took a drink. "I don't think I've totally gotten used to sleeping in a dorm, though. I mean, it's different than sleeping in your own bed at home," she supposed.

I nodded in agreement. Though, I sometimes wondered what sleeping felt like sometimes.

* * *

It was nice talking to someone and not feeling like there were moments of awkward silence. Even the moments that were silent, one of us picked up with a new subject, which we could talk about for a long time.

"You were in a Glee Club before this?" Spencer asked me.

I nodded. "Geeky, I know, but it was fun," I said, shrugging.

She didn't seem convinced. "So you went from being the head cheerleader at your school to being in the Glee Club? That's a little suspicious if you ask me," she joked.

I nodded, forcing a laugh. I had conveniently left out being pregnant when I told Spencer about my past. I didn't want it to change how she saw me. "I guess I just realized there was more to life than being popular."

She smiled at me, like she admired that about me.

It was a good save.

She moved onto the next topic, and I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. "So I've been stressing a little bit about this Philosophy test we have next week. What do you think?"

I shrugged. The bell jingled, letting everyone know someone else had walked in. "I mean, I've never really taken Philosophy before. What do you think he'll have on the test?" I asked, trying to calm my thoughts.

She shrugged. "We've been looking at Aristotle, so I guess the professor will ask us about him. Maybe some Plato. I know we're looking at Plato next chapter. I already read it."

I laughed. "Do you read semesters in advance?"

She blushed slightly. "I already have our assignments until November done," she confessed.

I raised my eyebrow. Now, I was finding it much easier to believe that she was as anal-retentive as she claimed.

As we were laughing, I noticed a guy walk behind Spencer. He looked sort of like—

"Have you seen Quinn Fabray anywhere?"

Oh, shit.

No.

It couldn't be…?

The man standing behind Spencer turned around, smiling at me when he saw my face.

"Quinn. I really need to talk to you," Puck said with a smug smile.

I bit my lip to keep from letting every expletive in my mind from spilling out. Spencer turned to him. I just shook my head, really unhappy with the entire situation.

* * *

Quinn blanched as she looked at the guy behind me. He looked kind of like a player, but I wasn't about to say something. I turned back to Quinn.

"I think I'd better leave. See you later, Quinn," I said, gathering my things and preparing to leave.

She stuttered. "You don't have to leave, Spencer," she insisted.

I shook my head. "Really, Quinn. Besides, I have to see if my roommate got back. I need to talk to her."

I took my stuff and left. Okay, so that was a lame lie, but if this guy was so determined to see Quinn, I figured it must've been important and she shouldn't just shrug it off.

I walked outside into the fresh autumn air. I realized on my walk around the campus that Quinn was nothing like Alison or Jenna. She was sweet. She wasn't manipulative or conniving like they were. She was genuine. She seemed a little bit worn, but I'm sure that I did, too. I mean, after all the hell A put my through, I was tired of a lot of things.

My phone began to ring as I neared the building I was in. It was Toby. I figured he was probably getting ready for work.

"Hello?" I answered cheerfully, not containing the smile on my face.

"Hey, Spencer," he greeted me. "How are you?"

I looked up at the sky. The color at the moment kind of reminded me of his eyes. "Well, let's see. It's been…two days since you last called me, and I'm just about the same," I teased. "What about you? How are you? Shouldn't you be getting to work right about now?" I inquired.

"I'm going now. And I'm fine. I've just missed you," he said.

Toby was really sweet. That was irrefutable. "It's only been like a week. I'd hate to see what you're like when I come back for Thanksgiving," I teased.

"I won't see you again until Thanksgiving?" he asked sadly.

"Not unless you come here. I have so many things to do here. But I've made two friends who are great. I think you'd like both of them."

There was silence for a second. "That's great, Spence."

Something about his voice seemed to lack enthusiasm. "Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No. I just have to go. But I wanted to call you to see how you are, and I'm glad you're okay. Bye," he said before hanging up.

I looked at my phone, checking that the call ended. That was really unlike him.

I eventually just shrugged it off as I pulled open the door to get into the building.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" I hissed. "I don't have time for your petty high school crap, Puck. I'm in college now. I know you're not doing anything with your life, but I'm trying to make it somewhere other than our stupid one-horse town in Ohio," I snapped.

"Do you think I really came all the way here to stupid Connecticut just to mess with you?" he retorted.

I crossed my arms, my lips pressed into a line. "So then why, exactly, are you here?" I demanded.

"I was talking to Shelby the other day—"

"You've kept that relationship up?" I asked. Honestly, I was surprised. Puck was a lot of things, but I didn't think he'd be one for messing around with his former teacher. I knew how he felt about Shelby but still. And maybe I was even a little hurt, too. Not that I wanted to be with him but…it felt like some kind of twisted betrayal.

He shook his head. "I was talking to her and she thinks that we should visit Beth sometime soon."

I looked at him hopefully, my looks of contempt fading to softness. "Really?"

"I want to visit her before Thanksgiving, if that's okay with you. My mom wanted me back in Lima for Thanksgiving. Shelby said she overreacted, and as long as you don't pull anything like you did last time, she'd like for Beth to grow up knowing who her birth mother is," he explained.

I smiled. I just reached out and hugged Puck. I knew I caught him by surprise, but I was really excited. I pulled away finally, still smiling.

"Actually, I'd really like to come up to New York with you to visit them," I told him.

* * *

_Alright, the plot thickens. I realize that it seems more like a friendship story, but I do feel as though Spencer and Quinn are developing stronger feelings for each other at this point. I just have to add Puck and Toby in there to cause some tension, but Fabrastings would be awesome. _

_Also, I know that things were left a little open-ended with Beth and Shelby, but I wanted Quinn and Beth to have some kind of relationship. I know this isn't how it happened on the show, but it's pretty much AU after Season 3 of Glee (and I guess Season 4A of PLL, since I don't know what'll happen next). _

**_Amanda208felldown: _**_Thank you. I hope you'll continue to read it!_

**_Jojobean209: _**_I don't know if I addressed your last comment, but thank you! I love Santana. And I also love Sparia and Spanna. Personally, I like Spanna more, but I also do enjoy Spencer and Aria's relationship. And Troian's dress at the 2012 TCA's? To die for. I loved it so much. _

_Personally, I'd love it if I got a few more reviews. I know I can't force you to review, but it's nice to know that people are reading this story (and I know it has like an insane amount of follows for what seems like a kind of unpopular ship and crossover). So please, whether you like it, dislike it, or are on the fence about it, review! __**-Kayson**_


	6. Secret Notes and Lipstick Stains

_**Author's Note: **__Hey everybody! You may or may not know about this (but I'm guessing not, unless you're a stalker, in which case you have a problem), but I'm sick. So I decided to write this to make me feel not sick._

* * *

**Chapter Five: Secret Notes and Lipstick Stains**

I pulled my hair into a high ponytail before beginning the paper for my philosophy class. I was already ahead on work, but decided it wouldn't hurt to be more prepared.

My phone rang. I looked over my shoulder and saw it was Emily calling.

"Hey, Emily!" I greeted happily.

"Hey, Spence. What are you doing? Did I interrupt you studying?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, but I'm already weeks ahead of the class, so I guess I can take your call," I teased.

Emily laughed. "How kind of you," she answered sarcastically. "How has Yale been?"

"Honestly, I thought it would be a lot harder, since it's an Ivy and all, but it's not. I just hope my parents aren't still pissed that I didn't get into the school of their choice."

"Spencer, you've got to stop living for your parents and start living for you. Why do you want their approval so much?" she asked frankly.

As she asked this, I opened my mouth to quickly brush it off. But for the first time, I actually thought of it.

Why _did _I want their approval so much? I wasn't like them; I never was. I wasn't so calculating and cold. I didn't want to find "love" and only communicate through e-mails and sticky notes. I didn't want to raise children to believe that winning was the best thing. I wanted to _break _this cycle they had continued and passed onto me and my sister.

"You're right, Em. Yale is a great school. I actually really like it," I replied finally.

The other end was dead silent except for the faint birds in the background. "What?"

"You're right. I shouldn't be so hard on myself. It's a good school, even more exclusive and prestigious than their choice, and I like it," I explained.

"I'm glad you finally warmed up to the school," she answered coolly.

I smiled. I put down my pen, leaning back on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. "So how is NYU? Is it everything you hoped and more?" I asked.

She sighed. I got a little worried. "Uh-oh. Is it that bad?"

"No! It's good, great, even. I just miss you and Hanna and Aria and I kind of even miss Rosewood. It's just weird being here, without anyone I know," she answered.

"Hey, we'll see each other at Thanksgiving, right? And come on, you're in New York City, the center of the universe. At least there, it doesn't matter what you are. You could be purple and they wouldn't care," I told her.

"True. Nobody here would judge me for being gay. I mean, I could get married here," she joked.

"Hey! Don't too radical," I added. She laughed in response.

* * *

"Hold on—when are you coming to New York? We have to meet," Santana told me as I paced around the dorm, going back and forth between the closet and my bed as I packed for New York. I was anxious to get back, even though I knew I wouldn't be leaving for another few weeks.

"I'm leaving Thursday night before Columbus Day and coming back on Tuesday, the day before classes start up again," I answered as I placed a sweater neatly in my suitcase.

She was silent for a minute. "Where to Shelby and Beth even live?"

I shrugged, thinking about it. "I think Puck said it was somewhere on the Upper East Side. I don't know, though. Somewhere around there?" I guessed, looking through my closet.

"Are you staying with them? Because if not, you're more than welcome to stay with us. I need you, Quinn. If I have to watch _West Side Story_ one more time—"

"Santana, you just have to remember that you're living with them there cheap, and it can't be that bad."

"You wanted to kill yourself spending forty minutes with Berry. Do you know what it's like to hear her voice twenty-four hours of every. Single. Freaking. Day?" she asked impatiently.

I rolled my eyes. "You're really pessimistic," I observed.

"And you're optimistic?"

"What I'm saying is that you're the person who's making it a problem. It can't possibly be that bad. And if it is, just talk with her. And Kurt is better than Rachel. Just keep closer to Kurt than Rachel."

Santana was silent. "Maybe, if I go back to that hot Michelle Obama look from Junior year, I could attempt to be civil with Rachel," she concluded.

"That's the spirit, Santana!" I encouraged as I tossed it into the dirty clothes. "I've got to go, but good job."

We exchanged goodbyes, and I looked through my dirty clothes once more. Once I determined that all of them were dirty, I headed down to the bottom floor where the laundry room was. I put all of my clothes into the washing machine, fishing out some coins to start the machine. As I was passing by the rows of machines, I noticed a book sitting on a stack of perfectly folded laundry. _The Catcher in the Rye. _

I got lost in my own thoughts and memories of the book. I hadn't even realized that owner had caught me staring.

"Are you a fan of it?"

I looked up, finding a brunette with warm brown eyes smiling slightly at me. It was Spencer.

I shrugged. "I read it in the tenth grade. I liked it, but I don't remember much about it."

She nodded, picking it up and examining it. "I read it back then, and I don't remember it, either. My boyfriend convinced me to read it again. He loves this book."

I didn't know why, but my heart sunk a little when she said the word _boyfriend. _"Oh. Trevor?" I inquired, referring to that guy who was with her.

"No. He's just a friend; we met when school started. My boyfriend back home. He really loves this book. I think he kind of identifies with the main character," Spencer explained as she sat down on a bench, scrutinizing the book.

Absentmindedly, I sat down next to her. "Are you into the bad boys?" I asked nostalgically, remembering high school.

"I don't know if I'd say I'm into them. He has that bad boy look, but he's a sweetheart," she said, her eyes focused on the book.

I nodded uncomfortably. It was just odd talking to anyone about relationships. Any one I ever had was just doomed from the beginning. I never really knew what it was like, or how it felt to be in love…or be loved.

"What about you?" Spencer asked cautiously.

"I'm single," I answered laconically, breaking off my thoughts as quickly as they had come. I contemplated just leaving my clothes and coming back. I knew that there were some books that had been neglected thus far that I should have been returning to.

But by some kind of magnetic force, I stayed in my exact spot, unwilling to move.

* * *

The two of us sat there in awkward silence. I kept reading the same sentence over and over in my head, not able to move to the next because I was so distracted.

Finally, I willed myself to just put the book down. It wasn't calming or soothing or passing any time by.

I just sat, waiting for one of us to break the silence, either by leaving or finally speaking.

I breathed out a small sigh of relief when she finally spoke, choosing the latter of the two.

"So do you like college so far?" she inquired, not making any attempt at eye contact.

I looked over my shoulder at her, assessing her body language. She looked a bit tense, like she was either trying to prove herself or showing that she was superior.

"As much as someone could like college, I guess. It's better than high school, for sure," I said.

She nodded. "You can say that again," she said under her breath.

I smiled slightly. For a split second, I wondered if she had went through anything even comparable to what I had been through.

My stomach dropped a bit when I realized there would likely never be anyone who could empathize with me. I bowed my head.

She picked up on it. "Did something happen during high school for you?" she asked, cautious not to say anything that might upset me.

I shrugged. "Typical teenage stuff," I lied. Apparently, I'm good at that.

She nodded, accepting this answer. I prayed she didn't ask anything more. I didn't want to say anything that might freak her out. Even though I felt really comfortable around Quinn (more than I should have, maybe), I didn't want to tell her things I'd regret later. What if she really was like another Alison?

I turned the book over in my hands. Finally, I put it down. I turned to Quinn.

"What about you? Do you like Yale?"

She nodded. "It's a beautiful school. It's nice to be in a city that people have actually heard of before, too," she joked.

I nodded. "I can agree with that," I decided.

* * *

Between exchanged laughs, I saw Spencer begin to dig around her pockets for her key to her dorm. She finally found them, opening her door. The room was empty, with a note on Spencer's bed from her roommate.

Spencer placed her laundry down and read the note. She placed it down. I looked at her, hoping for an explanation.

"My roommate is looking to be inducted into a sorority," Spencer said, lacking emotion in her voice.

I wondered whether or not she was upset about it. She didn't seem to care too much.

"I can go if—"

"No, you don't have to go. It looks like I'll probably have enough alone time as it is," she added flatly.

"Are you upset that your roommate is leaving?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Now I have extra closet space," she responded with a forced smile.

I gave her a small fake smile. "Well, I guess there's that."

I looked down at the laundry basket in my hands. "I should probably go anyway. Maybe you want to call me if you want to hang out later," I suggested.

She didn't really respond. She stood still as I exited the room.

I headed down the hallway to my own room, feeling kind of…hollow.

I went to the mundane task of putting away my clothes as I opened my empty, bare dorm room.

I sighed, getting down to the work that had to be done.

* * *

I sat in my room, looking all around, neglecting the things that should've been done.

I wasn't quite sure why I was acting this way. It wasn't sad by any means, but it wasn't happiness, either. I hadn't really gotten to know Clementine, but I didn't dislike her. She seemed like a nice person. Maybe she seemed a little bit too much like pre-A Mona for my liking, but she never did anything to alarm me in the slightest.

Still, things felt empty. I didn't crave the concept of being alone again. I had been alone for so long. I didn't feel safe alone. No amount of locks or security guards would make me feel secure since the events that happened Junior and Senior Year. I still woke up sometimes to the sensation of being smothered in my sleep, like I couldn't breathe.

My heartbeat raced, the volume in my ears ascending in a dramatic crescendo.

My heart palpitated when there was a sharp knock at the door. I jumped. I opened it up, thinking it might be Quinn. I kind of hoped it would be.

I was very shocked to see Toby there.

"Toby? What are you doing here?" I asked, truly shocked. It wasn't that I was unhappy to see him, but I really was not expecting this.

"I had time off from work, and I wanted to see you again before Thanksgiving. I've missed you," he confessed.

I reached up and hugged him. I kind of missed the secure feeling he gave me, especially now that I was lacking a roommate.

I smiled, remembering how grateful I should be to have a sweet boyfriend like him.

Of course, that was how I _should've _felt.

* * *

I was putting away my clothes, sighing at the touch. I didn't know why I felt so nostalgic about everything these days, but it was as though everything suddenly held more meaning.

I realized foolishly that I had Spencer's book. After a while of talking, she handed it to me to look over, and I guess I didn't give it back to her.

I sat down, wanting to keep it for a while before I knew that I had to give it back to her. It would be a good excuse to talk to her again, right?

I turned it over in my hands, the red whorls on the cover and the starchy feel of it so foreign.

Absentmindedly, I leafed through the pages, only briefly looking over the words. When I finally got to the back, a foreign, boyish type of handwriting struck me. She had mentioned it was a gift from her boyfriend, symbolic in their relationship.

With a guilty conscience, I read it, too curious to simply close the book.

_Dear Spencer, _

_ I'm so proud of you. You've overcome every obstacle in your life and you're still such an amazing person. I really hope when you read this book, you think of me. I love you. _

_ Toby_

I shut the book quickly. I suddenly felt a little bit guilty for reading, but my curiosity was also piqued. What obstacles was he talking about?

I shook my head, trying to shake it off. I decided it would probably be best if I gave her back the book now.

I began to walk towards her door, and I was just about to knock when I heard two sets of laughter on the other side. I stopped abruptly. One was clearly belonging to Spencer, but the other was deeper, much deeper than her petite, delicate roommate was capable of.

Part of me wanted to knock, just so she'd open up and I could see who it was.

Another part realized that it may have just been Trevor.

So I simply put the book down on the WELCOME mat in front of her dorm and headed back to my room.

* * *

_You know what would make me feel marvelously not-sick? Reviews! They're like sunshine, or in my case, penicillin. Or cough drops. Excuse me as I break into a fit of coughing. _

**_piecesofyourheart:_**_You would not believe how much your review touched me and I read it over and over. I really hope you know that it meant a lot. Unfortunately, I feel as though I have to agree with you, because I feel like from the amount of Quinn we saw on the show, we got bits and pieces of what her character could've been like, and she had so much potential, but she fell a little flat. It makes me sad because I really did like the bits of Quinn we did get! And I'm not going to lie, I was inspired by someone else on fanfiction when it comes to Fabrastings (I know their username, but I'm not putting it here in fear of getting it wrong, and I'm too lazy to look it up right this second). Anyway, in her stories, she brings out bits and pieces of the darker sides of Spencer and Quinn, the parts that really hurt. I thought, well, if I can do that, my mission will be accomplished. _

**_Guest: _**_Aww, thanks! But Paige McCullers (PLL) and Quinn? Hmm...not going to lie, a little skeptical on that one. _

**_Jojobean209: _**_I love having them interact. I feel like they would either get along marvelously, or they would be kind of competitive (Cheerios Quinn coming back!). I also did want to write in Quinn as having a relationship with Beth in some way, because I feel like Spencer would find that touching (not going to lie), and I'm not entirely sure, but seeing as Shelby and Rachel seem to have this cool kind of relationship, I feel like the Faberry in this will be made greater (and yes, Rachel will come in eventually!). Auntie Snixx will also come back sometime soon, as you must know, I'm in love with Santana. She's my favorite character ever. _

**_Amanda208felldown: _**_Thank you! They'll be getting closer, and something is gonna happen that kind of proves that they're friends...vague, I know, but that's how I am with responding to reviews!_

_Also, I'm kind of curious to know how you feel about Toby coming back. I mean, I assume you guys don't really ship Spoby that much since you ship Fabrastings. Diehard Spobette here, but I'm not going to lie: the thought of Fabrastings kind of makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. _

_And yes, I know there are a lot of you reading this story! Remember, you don't need an account to review! Just leave me a little message letting me know, "Hey, Kayson, I hated it. You suck. Whatever. You're unfollowed. Boo hoo" or "Hey, Kayson, you ship a suckish ship. Meh. But you're writing Fabrastings, so you're not too bad."_

_Just kidding. But really, these meds they're giving me are making me delirious. Help me out here. __**-Kayson**_


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